


The Silent Land

by KendraPendragon



Series: My tumblr writing [12]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Grief, Heartbreak, Spiritual, saying goodbye, song!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-15 18:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16069235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KendraPendragon/pseuds/KendraPendragon
Summary: "Are you really not going?" John asked angrily.Why would he?Molly wasn't there...





	The Silent Land

**Author's Note:**

> The prompted song was "Christina Rossetti - Silent Land"

“Are you seriously not going?”

The voice was nothing but an incoherrent whisper in Sherlock’s ears. Every sound had dulled in his ears. Every color had faded to grey.

“Sherlock, she was you friend!”

Friend…

No, she had never been his friend. Not one day had she been just this to him. Not one day.

“Are you really refusing to pay her this last sign of respect?”

Respect…

That didn’t even begin to describe what he had felt for her. What he would always feel for her.

“You should be ashamed of yourself!”

Ashamed…

Yes. He was. He was…

The shame blinded his sight and he had to close his eyes to focus.

 

When he opened them again, he saw John and Mary walk across the street and climbed into the black Mercedes.

Black…

The car, their clothes…his soul.

Sherlock lifted his head and looked at the sky. There was not one cloud there. He knew it was a lovely spring day.

But his sky was grey. The sunlight falling through the window couldn’t warm his skin.

Cold…

So cold…

His mouth was dry. His eyelids were heavy. His body couldn’t take much more.

He didn’t care. He wasn’t ready to face the world again.

Because he the moment he turned around, his world would fall apart. 

He would be alone. 

His gaze dropped and he looked at his reflection.

Skin white as paper. The shadow of a beard on his cheeks and chin.

His shoulders slumbed.

His eyes as grey and as dull as his sky.

_Remember me when I am gone away,_   
_Gone far away into the silent land_

A spot of color appeared in the reflection, coming closer.

More colors.

Hazelnut hair.

Sparkling brown eyes.

A smile that used to warm him.

Just a shadow now.

“You’re really not coming to my funeral?”

Sherlock closed his eyes at the clear sound of her voice.

“What’s the point? You’re not there, either.”

A giggle rippled through him and he opened his eyes again.

Her reflection was right behind his.

“Touché.”

Her smile was playful. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail.

_When you can no more hold me by the hand,_   
_Nor I half turn to go, yet turning stay._

Her elegant fingers entwined with his.

They felt hot against his cool skin.

His eyes fell close again and a tear escaped his lashes, leaving a burning trace on his icy cheek.

“Molly…”

His head was spinning with shame and guilt and regret and he leaned his forehead against the window glass.

His fingers curled to tighten their hold on hers.

“When you come clean out my flat, make sure to check the drawer in my night stand. I already have bought your Christmas present.”

Her voice was cheerful.

Sherlock felt sick. The last thing he deserved from her was a present.

_Remember me when no more day by day_   
_You tell me of our future that you planned_

“I had planned to tell you. I wanted to tell you…”

“But you didn’t”, came her soft reply.

Another tear rolled down his cheek.

She squeezed his hand comfortingly.

“It doesn’t matter, Sherlock.”

His jaw clenched. No one, no one in the world had spoken his name with such affection. And no one ever would again.

His back was burning hot when she pressed herself against him, her cheek resting between his shoulder blades.

“I knew. I knew it all along.”

_Only remember me; you understand_   
_It will be late to counsel then or pray_

“And it will be with me when I leave.”

“No”, he croaked, his head snapping up. In the window he could see the top of her head peaking over his shoulder.

“Please.”

Never had he put so much heart into a plea.

She looked up and their eyes met.

“I can’t stay. I don’t have a place here, anymore.”

“Your place is with me”, he insisted, his voice breaking and his cheeks covered in tears.

He could see the wetness in her eyes.

Yet, she smiled.

“Yes, it is. And a part of me will always be with you.”

He looked at her.

“That is not enough.”

That smile.

The smile he had loved so much now became unbearable to look at.

As if she knew how much it pained him to see so at peace (she had always been able to read him), she buried her head at his shoulder again.

_Yet if you should forget me for a while_   
_And afterwards remember, do not grieve_

“The pain will go away”, she whispered and he pressed his forehead against the smooth glass, shaking his head.

“And I will be nothing but a memory.”

“Never!” he yelled and whirled around.

He wanted to reach out for her.

To hold her.

To press her warm body against his and whisper all she needed to hear into her ear.

That he cared for her.

That she had been his guardian and his guide ever since they had known each other.

That he loved her like he had never loved anyone before.

But his flat was empty.

She was gone.

Gone forever…

Sherlock’s legs gave in and he fell to his knees, his whole body hurting from the loss of Molly Hooper.

He cried like he had never cried before.

Yet, the pain only seemed to increase and he wanted to cut open his body just so this horrible pain would leave him.

And when he thought he couldn’t take anymore, when he couldn’t breathe and his lungs were burning, she was there.

Her hands cradled his face.

Her lips kissed his many tears away.

_Better by far you should forget and smile_   
_Than that you should remember and be sad._

“Forget me, Sherlock. Only for a while.”

He shook his head in protest.

“Never. Never!”

“I can’t leave if you don’t let me go. And I want to leave, Sherlock.”

Sherlock sobbed.

Her voice was soft and her plea honest and it broke his heart.

“I will be waiting for you to come home to me.”

Sherlock opened his eyes.

“Really?”

His voice was only a whisper.

And, for the last time, he heard her heart-warming giggle.

“Of course, silly. I will always wait for you.”

He looked up.

Even though it wasn’t possible, he saw her gentle brown eyes and her beloved face in front of him.

“I love you, Molly Hooper.”

She smiled.

“I know.”

One last time, her warm hand cupped his cheek and Sherlock closed his eyes as her comforting warmth spread through him.

It was her love that warmed him.

A love so strong that it would warm his heart for the rest of his life.

Even though many years passed and her memory slowly faded away, the flame of her love would burn in his heart as strongly as it had on the very first day.


End file.
